


futari de (the two of us)

by thunderylee



Category: KinKi Kids
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-27
Updated: 2007-03-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 15:38:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12844245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: It’s always been the two of them, it just took them this long to finally get there.





	futari de (the two of us)

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

Domoto Tsuyoshi missed his cue, but the show had been going so horribly up until that point that it had probably worked in their favor. It was the first time his partner Koichi had so much as cracked a smile in four days, and Tsuyoshi took it a step further by pretending to be completely embarrassed and insisting that their band start the song over from the beginning. He must have been a better actor than he gave himself credit for, because Koichi actually crossed the stage-wide gap between them and gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder.

The crowd ate it up. They always did whenever the two of them got within five feet of each other. Tsuyoshi wasn’t stupid; he knew exactly what “fanservice” was and how to do it properly. After close to twelve years of practice, one might call him an expert, if being a “fanservice expert” constituted blatantly avoiding Koichi whenever _he_ tried to kiss him. Tsuyoshi used to amuse himself by imagining the look on Koichi’s face if there was ever that one time when he simply didn’t pull away.

This was years ago, of course. There has been a severe drought in the fanservice lately, what with the newer Johnny’s groups like KAT-TUN and Arashi going overboard. Granted, Arashi had been around for almost as long as KinKi Kids had, but that’s not the point. The point is that now the fans expected them to do things that they were just not comfortable doing. Correction: things that _Tsuyoshi_ was not comfortable doing. Koichi would gladly hump the wall if it had a hole in it, something that Tsuyoshi saw it fit to remind him on a daily basis up until the past year.

They had their moments, subtle interactions that, in Tsuyoshi’s opinion, was _real_ fanservice and seemed to satisfy the fans enough to keep coming back. He didn’t like to feel that anyone left their concerts disappointed, which was why he took it upon himself to initiate it whenever he had a chance. Nobody went to a KinKi Kids concert for the music, after all.

The most recent one was earlier on this tour, on Koichi’s birthday, when Tsuyoshi more or less serenaded him with his vocal stylings and called him Kochan in front of everyone. Not that everybody and their mother didn’t already call him Kochan, but it made him laugh just the same. Koichi tended to laugh when he was feeling strong emotions, like embarrassment or even anger, and Tsuyoshi made it a point to invoke those reactions, preferably in front of an audience, at every opportunity.

Nobody would guess that they barely knew each other outside of work. They may have been working 24/7/365 for the entire time they’ve known each other, but only a portion of that was spent together and a majority of their together-time was spent, well, working. They knew the basics, things that anyone with Internet access could learn: family history, likes and dislikes, etc. They more or less grew up together as Johnny’s Juniors, paired to debut as a duo by the executives, although ten years later Tsuyoshi still hasn’t figured out why. Their styles are so at the opposite ends of the spectrum that they both had to do solo work in order to be happy with their careers. For Koichi it was dancing and looking pretty, usually involving some sort of groin activity, while Tsuyoshi was content playing the guitar and singing his own lyrics. It had gotten to the point where performing their KinKi Kids songs had become like a chore, something to which they were both conforming and compromising themselves because they knew, deep down, that they wouldn’t be where they were today if it wasn’t for these songs.

In fact, Tsuyoshi had sung them so many times that he could easily wax poetic in his head while performing, on cue this time. His thoughts shifted from the past to the present, centering on the man across the stage and what might possibly be the matter with him. Tsuyoshi may be the one with the “strength” kanji, but Koichi was definitely the stronger of the pair. Usually he was light-hearted and careless; a sad Koichi could be a sign of the coming apocalypse. Tsuyoshi wondered briefly if he had enough canned goods in his pantry. In the house in which he spent maybe five days a year.

A banter session followed their medley of old songs, which turned out to be less of an actual banter session and more of a “Tsuyoshi talks and Koichi grunts” session. They had never planned what they were going to say beforehand, figuring it sounded more realistic than working off of an itinerary, but somehow this session came off rehearsed and rather boring. Tsuyoshi found himself missing the times when they would make fun of their routines, their backdancers, and most of all each other. He remembered a particularly amusing show where they spent a good ten minutes arguing over who was the bigger pervert. Now it seemed like an eternity before the lights went down and the longest half-hour of his life was finally over.

Halfway to his dressing room, he stopped short and made a one-hundred-eighty degree spin on his heel towards the opposite direction. Had it happened on stage, he might have gotten a few laughs. He had a pretty good idea where he was going, but his feet seemed to move of their own accord as they led him across the backstage area and straight through the door of Koichi’s dressing room.

“Knock much,” Koichi said snarkily, more engrossed in the complicated process of removing his shirt than the fact that Tsuyoshi had barged into his private room. A credit to him, Tsuyoshi had to admit, he knew who he was without turning around.

“What is your problem?” Tsuyoshi demanded, grabbing his partner by the arm and forcing him to face him, not bothering to be gentle because it was Koichi and Koichi could beat him into the ground if he wanted to. Tsuyoshi felt Koichi’s forearm muscle contract at the sudden action and braced himself for a punch in the face.

All Koichi did was stare at him. “There is no problem,” he replied crisply, avoiding Tsuyoshi’s eyes.

Koichi was, amongst many things, a very bad liar. It was a good quality in theory, but a curse in reality when it came to trying to keep a secret. Especially from Tsuyoshi.

“You’re lying,” Tsuyoshi said needlessly, trying to keep the smirk off of his face. It wasn’t often that he was in this position with Koichi and he rather enjoyed it.

“So what if I am,” Koichi spat. “Maybe I just don’t want to talk to you about it.”

Tsuyoshi had the decency to close his eyes before rolling them. “Fine. But whatever it is, you need to get over it because you’re making us look bad out there.”

Koichi swore in a way that made Tsuyoshi’s eyebrows almost meet his hairline. “I could honestly care less how _we_ look anymore. Just leave me alone and do your job.”

Tsuyoshi mentally counted; seventeen years of knowing each other, twelve years of performing together, and never _once_ had Koichi spoken to him this way. It was enough to make him grip Koichi’s shoulders with both hands and shove him roughly against the wall, albeit the only reason he made it that far was because he had caught Koichi off-guard. Once Koichi had gathered himself, however, he could have easily gotten out of it and turned the tables for what might have ended up being a pretty nasty fight; thankfully, he didn’t move. Tsuyoshi didn’t think either one of them wanted to go back on stage with bruises and bloody face parts, no matter how attractive Yamapi made it look.

“I don’t see the point of this,” Koichi hissed. “You’re doing nothing but wasting my time.”

“Are you talking about right now or for the past half of our lives?” asked Tsuyoshi. “Because if it’s the latter, just tell me now and we can end it.”

Koichi’s expression drastically changed. “If that’s what you want.”

“That is most definitely _not_ what I want!” Tsuyoshi frowned at his tone and took a deep breath to calm down. “Whatever is wrong, just tell me. I want to help you. If something is bothering you, it is bothering me too.”

Koichi sighed as though he were bored. “You have five seconds to let me go or I will do it for you.”

“Kochan -”

“ _One_.”

“I will not let you go back out there like -”

“ _Two_.”

“- this. At least _pretend_ that everything is -”

“ _Three_.”

“- okay and after the show we can -”

“ _Four_.”

“- talk about what is bothering you.”

“Right now _you_ are bothering me. _Five_.”

Before Koichi could push him away, Tsuyoshi did something that he immediately decided was not the best course of action considering the circumstances. He placed his hands firmly on Koichi’s jaw and kissed him. It happened so fast that Koichi didn’t have time to react; Tsuyoshi had returned to his prior stance before it even dawned on him what he had just done. A flash of something, most likely anger, crossed Koichi’s eyes and Tsuyoshi thought it best to leave his presence as soon as possible.

Without a word, Tsuyoshi crossed the threshold and made his way to his own dressing room, trying to ignore the odd tingle on his lips and Koichi’s hysterical laughter echoing in his ears.

~*~*~*~

“Thank you, bye-bye!”

Tsuyoshi’s back hurt, not from dancing or bowing but from carrying Koichi piggy-back for the entire encore. The last half of their show had been an entirely nostalgic experience, one that made Tsuyoshi feel like he was nineteen again. The old Koichi had returned, much to the delight of everyone in the dome (most of all Tsuyoshi), and the fans had screamed themselves hoarse from cheering for the multiple displays of fanservice that Koichi initiated.

Tsuyoshi went over numbers in his head once again, only this time with a smile on his face; _seven_ times Koichi had tried to dance with him, five times he had crossed the stage and laid his head on Tsuyoshi’s shoulder while they sang, and Tsuyoshi had lost count of how many perverse jokes and seductive looks had been sent his way. During one of their slower love songs, Tsuyoshi had been playing the guitar and almost missed a chord when he felt Koichi’s arms wrap around his waist from behind; he had to lean over to allow Koichi to reach the microphone, and even still his voice was more directed towards Tsuyoshi’s ear than anywhere else. Right after that was the encore, where Tsuyoshi spent three whole songs running around the stage with Koichi on his back, straining his neck to sing into the microphone that Koichi kept inadvertently smashing into his nose.

After nearly an hour of being congratulated on a good show by what felt like the entire staff, Tsuyoshi was ready to collapse. He almost fell asleep on the ride back to the hotel, and it took every ounce of energy he had left to return to his room, wash his person, and unceremoniously fall into the bathtub. His muscles ached and his brain was clouded; he may have felt young again, but his body was adamant on reminding him that he was in fact twenty-seven. He was by no means old, not just yet, although somedays he wondered what would happen when he couldn’t dance anymore. He supposed he would just continue singing and playing the guitar.

But not Koichi; he would dance forever. Tsuyoshi could see him as an old man with white hair and wrinkles moving gracefully around the nursing home using his cane as a dance partner. The thought made him smile and close his eyes as the heat from the bathwater fogged the mirrors and loosened the tension that had been building up inside him, both physically and figuratively.

He must have sat there for hours; his fingers were prune-like when he reluctantly emptied the tub and wrapped a towel around his waist, his hair still dripping as he opened the door to retrieve sleeping clothes from his suitcase.

His path was blocked by an angry-looking redhead. “Kochan, what the hell -”

“‘What the hell’ is right,” Koichi snapped, his voice even deeper than normal. “I’ve been waiting forever for you. Were you trying to drown yourself?”

Tsuyoshi rolled his eyes and tried to ignore his sudden rush of goosebumps. “No. I was relaxing.”

“You said we would talk after the show,” Koichi said matter-of-factly, folding his arms over his stomach. “It’s after the show. Let’s talk.”

“Can I get dressed first?” Tsuyoshi asked sarcastically. “It’s rather difficult to bear the burden of your problems in a towel.”

“I waited long enough, thanks,” said Koichi as he narrowed his eyes.

“You seemed happy enough after…” Tsuyoshi trailed off; he didn’t quite know how to bring up what he had done without, well, bringing it up. “… after our talk earlier.”

Koichi shrugged. “You told me to pretend like everything was okay.”

“You were listening?”

“Of course I was listening, _baka_. I can count and listen at the same time.”

Tsuyoshi sighed. Sometimes Koichi was worse than a woman. Leaning against the wall as though his main purpose in life was to hold it up, he said, “Fine. Let’s talk.”

Apparently Tsuyoshi had forgotten the meaning of “talk” despite his many years of using the word, or perhaps its meaning had changed drastically and he had somehow missed the memo. At any rate, all he heard was “shut up” before he discovered what it felt like to be slammed into a wall. It didn’t hurt too badly, not with Koichi’s hand behind his head to dull the impact, and definitely not with Koichi’s entire person doing the slamming. Then again, Tsuyoshi really only had a split second to think about it before Koichi’s lips were on his and Tsuyoshi came to the conclusion that he wholeheartedly approved of this new definition.

Technically speaking, this was the third time they had kissed; however, they were definitely not fifteen anymore and there was no performance for which to run off and get ready. Tsuyoshi was grateful for both things, because if he were being entirely honest with himself, kissing Koichi rated up there with winning an award or catching a really big fish, and he wouldn’t pass on the opportunity to do it for more than a second.

Koichi’s hand slipped down the back of Tsuyoshi’s head and balled into a fist against his collarbone as he pulled away just enough to talk. “What are you thinking about?” he asked in a whisper, pressing their foreheads together.

“Fish,” Tsuyoshi admitted. “What are you thinking about?”

He could feel Koichi’s smile. “Cars.”

It made perfect sense to Tsuyoshi, who inhaled sharply against Koichi’s lips and was forced to exhale through his nose as Koichi closed the minimal distance between them and picked up where he had left off. Tsuyoshi’s arms fell to wrap around Koichi’s waist and pull him closer, his head tilting automatically to deepen the kiss.

Koichi gasped when Tsuyoshi ran his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip, inadvertently opening his mouth in an unspoken invitation for Tsuyoshi to proceed. Tsuyoshi felt a hand pull at his wet hair as Koichi tentatively met Tsuyoshi’s tongue with his own and jumped slightly at Tsuyoshi’s goatee touching his skin; he was obviously not used to kissing another man. Neither was Tsuyoshi, but he didn’t feel any shock or awkwardness and he was well aware that he was in fact kissing Koichi, who was most definitely male judging by the hardening appendage pressing into Tsuyoshi’s thigh.

Tsuyoshi couldn’t help it; he broke the kiss and looked at Koichi’s glazed-over eyes with a straight face. “Am I that good of a kisser?” he asked, slowly moving his hand around Koichi’s waist towards the topic of conversation.

“Shut up,” Koichi said again, making no effort to stop Tsuyoshi’s exploration. “I’ve been hard for you all night, and it’s completely your fault.”

Tsuyoshi snorted. “That’s nothing. I’ve been hard for you for years.”

Koichi’s lips slowly curved upwards into a smirk worthy of Kamenashi Kazuya. Despite the fact that Tsuyoshi was closer, Koichi beat him to it by boldly shoving his hand between them and blindly feeling around until he found a bulge in Tsuyoshi’s towel.

His eyes immediately widened. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You’ve got one of your own, don’t you?” Tsuyoshi replied, only slightly annoyed as he pushed against Koichi’s stilled hand. Chuckling, he added, “It’s a good thing I didn’t get dressed.”

“So it is.” Koichi gave an experimental squeeze and Tsuyoshi stifled a groan. “Want me that bad, huh?”

Tsuyoshi pressed his face into Koichi’s shoulder and bit his lip, his fingertips lingering behind the button of Koichi’s pants. “You have no idea.”

Squirming at the touch, Koichi’s lips found Tsuyoshi’s ear. “Show me.”

Tsuyoshi didn’t need to be told twice. Years of yearning gave him the strength to lift Koichi by the ass and fling him on the nearest bed as though he weighed no more than a sack of potatoes. Crawling on top of him, Tsuyoshi struggled to pull Koichi’s shirt over his head and toss it aside, pressing their bare chests together as he leaned in to capture Koichi’s lips once again.

Koichi moaned into his mouth as their groins aligned and Tsuyoshi ground down against him. Tsuyoshi felt Koichi’s hands wrap around his back and slide down to his waist to unfasten the towel, immediately encasing his length. His skin was soft yet masculine, his touch gentle yet strong; he seemed to know exactly how to stroke him to make it feel good without being too much too soon.

_Of course he does_ , Tsuyoshi thought after the fact. _It’s Kochan_.

Koichi’s pants appeared to be the only item separating Tsuyoshi from what he considered to be the cure to everything that was wrong with the world. For what it was worth, Tsuyoshi made quick work of the buttons (curse those Americans for inventing button-fly jeans) and had his hand around Koichi’s flesh in no time, taking pride in the low grunts Koichi was emitting because of him.

“That feels good,” Koichi mumbled, pressing his lips to Tsuyoshi’s throat as Tsuyoshi pressed their uncovered arousals together and joined forces with Koichi to stroke them as one. “Why haven’t we done this before?”

Tsuyoshi didn’t have an answer, at least not one that Koichi would like. Instead, he quickened his pace and yelped out loud when Koichi bit into his collarbone. “Ow!”

“Sorry,” said Koichi, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “I bite.”

“Obviously.”

Koichi probably would have shot back with something smart if his body hadn’t chosen that moment to throw his head back, scrunch up his face, and shoot something else on their stomachs. “Tsuyo-chan,” he moaned softly as he came.

Tsuyoshi abandoned his efforts in favor of watching Koichi pant for air as he slowly opened his eyes. His face was flushed, his lips plump from kissing and parted slightly. “That was beautiful,” he whispered.

“Glad you enjoyed it,” Koichi replied breathlessly with a chuckle. “If you’re lucky, you’ll get to see it again.”

Tsuyoshi responded by crushing their mouths together in a kiss that was all passion and desire. Their tongues slid against each other in a way that told Tsuyoshi that this was far from over; in fact, it was only just beginning, both tonight and in the nights to come.

He was so involved in his own overwhelming emotions that he didn’t notice Koichi, in his post-orgasmic haze, wrap his arms tightly around Tsuyoshi’s back and flip them over. Tsuyoshi opened his eyes to see Koichi grinning down at him as he kicked his pants all the way off and straddled Tsuyoshi’s waist.

“I should be on top,” said Koichi decidedly. “I’m older.”

“I’m not calling you ‘Koichi-sama’,” Tsuyoshi retorted, taking advantage of his position to run his hands along Koichi’s muscular thighs. “And I thought you didn’t know what you were doing.”

“I don’t,” said Koichi, very unconvincingly being as one of his hands was coaxing Tsuyoshi’s legs apart. “But I have heard things.”

Tsuyoshi groaned as Koichi brushed past his throbbing erection and continued down. “Considering the company you keep, I’m not surprised.”

“I will admit,” said Koichi, “one particular conversation started with ‘Should you ever decide you want to stick it to Tsuyoshi-kun…'”

“I will blow you if you tell me who said that,” Tsuyoshi said seriously.

Koichi shook his head. “Not my secret to tell. He all but drew me a diagram, though, which is another reason I should be on top. How much do you know?”

Tsuyoshi smirked uncharacteristically and inched his fingers up the back of Koichi’s thighs. “Enough to make you squirm.”

As Tsuyoshi reached the crease between Koichi’s thighs and ass, Koichi squeezed his eyes shut and lost the balance in his arms, unceremoniously falling flat on top of Tsuyoshi. Withholding his amusement, Tsuyoshi traced the crease as far as he could go before backtracking and massaging a sensitive spot behind Koichi’s balls.

“I want to be on top,” Koichi muttered stubbornly, his body contradicting him by shuddering and hardening once again.

“You are on top,” Tsuyoshi pointed out, kissing any part of Koichi’s face that he could reach, which was pretty much his forehead since his actual face was buried in Tsuyoshi’s neck. He withdrew one hand to grab a chunk of Koichi’s ass while the other explored the area between his legs, dangerously approaching newfound territory. At Koichi’s sudden intake of breath, immediately followed by a high-pitched moan that sounded like it startled Koichi as much as Tsuyoshi, he added, “Tell me what to do.”

Koichi’s breathing changed drastically as he struggled to lean his head up far enough to speak. “I don’t suppose you have any lubrication,” he said sarcastically.

“I don’t suppose you can reach the drawer on the nightstand,” Tsuyoshi replied in an equal tone.

Koichi raised himself up on his elbows and arched an eyebrow.

Tsuyoshi cut him off before he could get any ideas. “It feels better when I, you know, do it myself.”

Koichi responded by grinding against Tsuyoshi’s hipbone. “That’s kind of hot to imagine,” he admitted. “Do you think about me when you do it?”

“What do you think?”

“I think I don’t know.” Koichi rested his chin on Tsuyoshi’s chest and looked up into his eyes. “How long have you wanted me? Are you in love with me?”

“When did you turn into a woman?” Tsuyoshi asked, failing to hide his smile.

Koichi humped him again, presumably making his point. “I am very much _not_ a woman, thanks. I just want to know.”

Tsuyoshi tilted his head in thought as he tried to think back to when he first looked at Koichi in that different, special way. “Thirteen years?” he guessed out loud. “I was too young to know any better,” he added with a grin.

Koichi’s jaw dropped. “Thirteen years?” he repeated. “Are you serious?”

“Why would I lie to you?”

Koichi laughed so hard that he rolled off of Tsuyoshi and fell onto his side. Tsuyoshi knew that he wasn’t embarrassed or even angry; Koichi honestly found this bit of information hilarious.

“What is so funny?” Tsuyoshi demanded.

“I knew it!” Koichi declared between bouts of laughter, pointing an accusatory finger at Tsuyoshi. “You wanted to kiss me back. I felt your lips twitch the first time we did that scene. All these years, I thought it was because you were repulsed by me.”

“I almost did kiss you back,” Tsuyoshi admitted. “I didn’t think you would go for it, though. Not back then.”

“I probably would have hated you forever,” agreed Koichi. “Now I’m too old to care anymore.”

“You’re not old,” Tsuyoshi said comfortingly, his earlier thoughts surfacing in his mind. “You’re still dancing.”

Koichi laughter faded to a content smile as he snuggled into Tsuyoshi’s embrace. “Are you in love with me?” he asked quietly.

“You know I am,” Tsuyoshi replied in a voice that was barely audible.

Koichi met his eyes. “Good.”

It was all that was said, all that really needed to be said as Koichi returned to his previous position and slipped something into Tsuyoshi’s hand. “I think you can figure it out from here,” he whispered, kissing his way from Tsuyoshi’s throat to his lips. “Be gentle with me.”

Tsuyoshi melted into the kiss while fumbling to open the bottle and coat his fingers with the warm liquid. He retraced his steps from earlier, swallowing Koichi’s moans of encouragement as he got closer to his destination. Hesitating, he circled the perimeter of the tiny hole a few times before Koichi lost his patience and reached down between them to force Tsuyoshi’s finger inside.

After a few seconds of thrusting and wriggling around, Koichi’s vocal appreciation guiding him in the right direction (which was apparently deep and towards the front), Tsuyoshi snuck in a second finger. He may not have been privy to the semantics of sex between two men, but he was well aware of the end result and common sense informed him of the steps in-between that would make it as comfortable as possible, for himself as well as Koichi.

“There!” Koichi exclaimed suddenly, rapidly pushing back against Tsuyoshi’s touch as though it were an involuntary action. “Right there, Tsuyochan. Do that again and again and again and -” He broke off into a howling moan, clutching onto Tsuyoshi’s shoulders as though he would fall otherwise.

It was definitely a possibly considering the loss of control Koichi had of his body; Tsuyoshi tightened his hold on him as he squeezed in a third finger and moved them as fast as he could to keep hitting that particular spot.

Koichi was sweating now, the perspiration creating a slippery friction between them as he blindly reached for the discarded bottle and began frantically lubing Tsuyoshi’s arousal. Tsuyoshi groaned in the back of his throat and sought out Koichi’s lips, kissing him fiercely as Koichi grabbed him by the wrist and yanked his fingers out, screaming, “Do it! Do it now!”

Far be it for Tsuyoshi to disobey a direct order, such a vulgar one at that, especially one from the man he had loved for so long. However, he did have a reputation to uphold, one that wasn’t his. “You do it,” he said strongly. “You’re on top.”

He thought he saw a flash of gratitude in Koichi’s eyes, but he couldn’t be entirely sure since his flesh was immediately encased in a hot, wet tightness. Koichi wasted absolutely no time impaling himself on Tsuyoshi, a little too fast if the look on his face was any indication.

“Relax, Kochan,” Tsuyoshi said soothingly, rubbing Koichi’s back as his pained face made Tsuyoshi physically hurt. “I’m not going anywhere. We can do it slowly.”

“A little late for that,” Koichi gasped in a strained voice. “I think I’ve lost all feeling in my ass.”

“I highly doubt that,” Tsuyoshi replied with a chuckle, sliding his hand between their sweat-slicked bodies to grasp Koichi’s hardness and stroke him firmly. “Can you feel that?”

Koichi responded by moaning into Tsuyoshi’s jaw, autonomously rocking back and forth against Tsuyoshi. A deep groan escaped Tsuyoshi’s lungs as Koichi began to move with more ease. Tsuyoshi leaned his head back, Koichi’s mouth instantly attaching to his exposed neck, the fingers on Tsuyoshi’s free hand clutching to Koichi’s hip and guiding him up and down. He stroked him in time with the rhythm they established together; he opened his eyes to see Koichi intensely staring down at him despite the powerful emotions flooding them both.

It was all too much for Tsuyoshi, who tried to warn Koichi the best he could, which was apparently by digging his nails into his hip and making very high-pitched noises through his nose as he fought to keep his eyes open.

Miraculously, Koichi understood. “No, Tsuyo-chan,” he said softly, doubling his speed. “I’m close too. I want to let go with you.”

Tsuyoshi thought he could hold out, but he was very wrong, for Koichi became impossibly tight around him with the force of his own orgasm. He bit down hard on Tsuyoshi’s chest and continued to ride him, even when Tsuyoshi screamed his name along with a few other choice words and lost control, thrusting upwards until he exploded inside him.

It was then that Koichi finally stopped, collapsing on top of Tsuyoshi and making no effort to disconnect them from each other. His breathing was ragged and sporadic, his body shaking and soaked with sweat.

“I’m sorry,” Tsuyoshi said quickly, the depth having gone from his voice. “Did I hurt you?”

Koichi shook his head with what looked like the last of his energy. “That was… that was…”

“Yeah,” Tsuyoshi agreed. “It was.” He managed to control his face muscles long enough to smile. “Next time you’ll have to let me top.”

“No way,” Koichi replied, giggling like a girl. “I top. And what do you mean ‘next time’?”

Tsuyoshi slapped him playfully. “You’re mine now, Kochan.”

“It always has been.” Koichi crawled up Tsuyoshi’s body and planted a kiss on his nose. “The two of us, together, since the beginning.”

“The two of us, always,” Tsuyoshi agreed.


End file.
